


Ride 'Em, Cowboy

by denof_iniquity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/denof_iniquity/pseuds/denof_iniquity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is 1814, and hunter cowboys Dean and Cas are being chased by a tribe of Indians.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride 'Em, Cowboy

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the most implausible sex scene contest, so if you take this seriously, I apologize.

_The Mohave Desert, 1814_

As the boulder neared the edge of the crag, Dean felt his heart explode. Sliding from the safety of the cliff, the massive chunk of stone fell through the air in slow motion and crashed with an impossible roar, alerting the tribe of Indians who were relaxing in the shadows of the cliff. Dean thought his legs might melt.

The redskins’ cries of surprise turned to anger as they turned their heads upward to see Dean and Cas frozen on the cliff, stolen horses in hand. The redskins had robbed them of their horses the previous day at a showdown, and they were in the process of reclaiming their property while the tribe stopped. But the two ton boulder apparently had alternative plans.

“U ne guv a ni s ga ya!” hollered an Indian with malice as he pointed at the two cowboys.

“U ne guv a ni s ga ya!” echoed the rest of the tribe, and they sprang upward, brandishing hatchets, clubs, spears, and other weapons as they began their ascent of the cliff toward Dean and Cas.

“Goddammit!” cried Dean, finally regaining controls of his senses. “Cas, run!”

Cas did not need to be told twice as he hopped on his white horse, Jimmy, and kicked three times, taking off through the desert at lightning speed. Dean followed suit, urging his black stallion, Baby, to gallop as quickly as she could.

The adrenaline rushed through Dean’s veins as he and Baby closely tailed Cas and Jimmy. The hot desert wind beat against his face and clothes, and Dean imagined what would happen should the Indians catch them. He and Cas had been skirting this tribe for months, trying to gank their chief, who was practicing some form of ancient tribal voodoo which was accounting for the deaths of several young girls in the accompanying town of Angel’s Camp. The two had barely escaped with their scalps on several occasions and had lost many personal belongings, like their horses. Dean realized with a start that the colt was in his pillowcase, and doubted that Cas was carrying his knife. It was supposed to be a sly mission to reclaim their horses, they thought that weapons were not needed. Dean swallowed hard and kicked Baby again, goading her to pick up speed.

“Dean!” screamed Cas over the sound of the galloping horses as Dean pulled up beside him. “Dean! Jimmy’s got a hurt leg!” His face was still turned ahead, but a worried expression colored the features as the wind flattened his skin.

Sure enough, when Dean stole a glance at the white mustang’s foreleg, he noticed the ungraceful limp accentuated by a bulge which could not indicate anything good. There was no way that Jimmy could last this sprint much longer in such a condition.

Whipping his head backward, Dean felt his nerves die as he spotted the stampede of redskins emerging from the cliff and gaining on the renegades, weapons held high. They would no doubt catch Cas and Jimmy within a few minutes, and then Cas’s scalp would be presented as a souvenir at tonight’s campfire.

“Dammit!” cursed Dean, slowing Baby slightly to stay beside Cas. The poor horse was losing steam, and quickly. He wracked his brain for solutions. They _always_ escaped, no matter what. They had been in so many situations over so many years where split second timing and gutsy last resorts had to be taken, and they always emerged alive. But now, in West Nevada running from a hollering tribe of vengeful redskins, Dean was at a loss. Maybe this was how he and Cas were to meet their ends.

The chorus of Indian chants was now audible, and Dean saw the redskins closing the space between them. “Dean, go on without me, I can try and hold them off until you get the colt!” screamed Cas, his brown hat flying off in the wind.

No. It would not happen that way. He and Cas were not going to lose their lives to pubescent savages on a mission _to get their horses back._ Absolutely not, the world had bigger plans.

“Cas! Hop on Baby!” yelled Dean with a sudden stroke of genius.

“What!” replied Cas incredulously, turning his baffled expression to face Dean.

“Hurry, get on Baby! She’s faster than any horse in the desert!” Dean steered Baby so that she was inches away from Cas and Jimmy—within easy jumping distance.

“Are you outta your head!”

“Do it, Cas!”

With a look of utter abandonment, Cas released Jimmy’s reigns and swiftly jumped from the white to the black horse, landing behind Dean. Dean scooted forward to give Cas more space. “Hang on!” he yelled as Cas clutched his waist. “Go, Baby, go!”

Baby shot forward with the speed of lightning, leaving Jimmy in the dust. The stallion’s lean muscles pummeled the ground at an alarming rate, separating the two further and further from the angry redskins. Behind him, Cas gave a small cry of triumph. “We’re not out of the woods yet, Cas,” called Dean as he tightened Baby’s reigns.

The rough bumps of the bareback horse were suddenly interrupted by a nudge on Dean’s lower back that did not come in time with the canter of Baby’s sprint. A small poke right above his pants that came from a source independent of the galloping horse hardened and stayed.His spine stiffened.

“Cas—are you..are you hard??” he screamed over his shoulder, noting the redskins still on their tail.

“I—I can’t help it, Dean!” screamed his friend back defensively. “What with the bumpy road and the close contact and the adrenaline—“

“Aww, tarnation, Cas!” cried Dean in frustration, pretending to ignore his own swelling member. “Now is not the time!”

“I know, Dean, but I didn’t ask for this to happen!”

Dean grunted as he kicked Baby again, now feeling nothing except Cas’s erection in his back. It was ridiculous—he and Cas were literally running from death and the idiot pops a bone. “You’re sick, partner!” screamed Dean.

“Dean…what if…” came Cas. And then nimble hands were at his belt buckle, tugging it loose.

“Cas, what in the name of Jesus are you doing!” Was he completely serious? They were on a horse travelling at a speed quicker than they had ever in their lives, _running for their lives from a tribe of bloodthirsty redskins,_ and Cas wanted to have sex. Baby’s back rose and fell roughly against the desert sand. “If you haven’t noticed, we are on a moving horse!”

“I know! But I can’t help myself…” Cas’s voice was loud and desperate as he pulled the waistband of Dean’s pants.

Dean squirmed, yelling angrily. “No! Not now!” He couldn’t believe Cas was even considering sex right now. It was preposterous. Imbecilic. …hot.

“Dean, please!”

His own erect penis told him where his mind was. Glancing behind him at the oncoming Indians, Dean rose from Baby and squeezed her sides with his knees to keep his balance. “Jesus Christ, Cas!”

His pants were down in an instant. Cas rubbed his hand vigorously over Baby’s coat and gathered as much of her natural oils on his hands as he could and slicked it over his penis. Now they were ready.

Dean almost toppled over the front of Baby as Cas slid his penis inside him, the gyrations of the horse’s canter eliminating the necessity of the thrust. His thighs burned as he balanced upright on Baby, screaming as the shaft slid back and forth against his rectum. Baby retained her speed, and knotted her reigns through his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Goddammit, Cas!” he cried as the painful pleasure filled his body. The thrill of the chase coupled with the burn of Cas’s penis made for an entirely new sensation of foreign enjoyment. His eyes were wild as he surveyed the redskins behind him, beating the ground with their red mustangs. Cas had positioned himself under Dean, so that Baby’s rhythm was in time with his own. His hands held Dean’s hips stationary as he bucked in and out of his butt.

“Cas…” he gasped, his stomach in knots while he relished the sweet burn. Cas lubricated again with Baby’s oily coat and fully thrust himself inside again, ramming against Dean’ prostate.

 A strangled cry of renewed pleasure fornicated from Dean’s lips, and Baby’s step faltered. The coveted sensation overtook Dean’s focus, as he yanked at his own massive erection. Sighing and gasping in time with the horse’s stride, Cas and Dean thrust to the thrill of their predicament.

Dean’s legs burned as he held himself balanced atop Baby, crippled by his own weight and lack of control. He did not think he would last much longer. “C-Cas…” he stammered, but was overtaken by the ramming of his own prostate. Falling with his forehead against Baby’s mane, Dean screamed and held his ass in the air, completely giving himself over to the man riding him.

Cas whipped at the reigns, slapping Dean’s naked butt in the process, and bucked against Dean’s hips, both men spitting out simultaneous grunts. A distant Indian holler was audible over the sound of galloping, but Dean could not bring himself to point it out. Not when both of them were so close.

With one big, final thrust, Cas rammed inside Dean and then erupted, ejecting a stream of his seed inside Dean. He whelped and whined while he came, his breath coming in uneven droves. Finally, he fell back, completely limp and exhausted.

Dean tipped back to a seated position, his rear in a world of pain. His anus burned with every gallop, but he ignored the searing sting. Wordless phrases screamed from his tongue at the realization of where they were and what they were doing passed over him, but they were erased by the oil-slicked hands of Castiel, jerking and twisting over the hardened swell of his penis.

“Cas!” he whined, whipping at Baby. “You don’t—you don’t have to—“ he spat breathlessly, craving the friction of his angel’s hands.

“Shh…” Cas cooed coyly. “Go faster!”

“Giddy-up, Baby!” he screamed at his horse, twisting his face in a snarl. Baby went as Cas jerked his hands up and down his shaft, sweet sensation taking over his body.

Cas, I’m gonna come,” he panted, trying with all of his heart to keep focused on the path ahead. He could hear the gallop of the Indians’ horses gaining on them. Cas’s arms twisted around his waist tighter as he picked up his speed.

“Come, baby, come.”

In the throes of pleasure, Dean released a wail of triumph as he shot his pearly fluid out. The thrill of the orgasm threatened to paralyze his body, the burn in his ass serving as a reminder of the perfect sensations. “CAS!”

Cas giggled mischievously in his ear and yanked Dean’s pants up, nimbly fastening his belt. The two were now positioned in the same way they had been ten minutes before, but Dean’s heart was now beating has quickly as a hummingbird’s.

Fortunately, Baby began to descend into a craggy valley, and Dean, his mind stirring, numbly steered them into a small ravine that was just deep enough for them to be invisible from the valley floor. Several moments later, the tribe galloped loudly past, not knowledgeable of the two cowboys and the black horse hiding idly by. Within minutes, they were gone and all was quiet.

Dean slid from Baby’s back and collapsed on the sandy floor, his thighs and anus screaming. He felt like he could sleep for days, every effort of his exhausted. Cas sat beside him, a serious expression clouding his face.

“Dean, I forgot, you aren’t supposed to use oil as lubricant.”


End file.
